Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You
by VampireElfWitch
Summary: A noblewoman becomes a vampire. She wants revenge, to kill the one who did this to her. But nothing is easy, considering his the Son of the Devil. Contains Evil Dracula, coarse language, sex senses, violence, Verona, Marishka, Aleera, and a lot of sins!
1. Human No More

Summary: A noblewoman becomes a vampire. She wants revenge, to kill the one who did this to her. But nothing is easy, considering his the Son of the Devil. Contains Evil Dracula, course language, sex senses, violence, Verona, Marishka, Aleera, and a lot of sins!

This is not my usual type of fanfic. Although Dracula is leaning towards the evil side in the Dracula's Return series, he's not as evil as he is in this fanfic! And yes the name very much suits this story, you want to know why? Then read.

Disclaimer: I'm not Stephen Summers, but anything else in this fanfic that doesn't belong to him, is mine! (That includes the plot!) Though you might be able to borrow it if you ask nicely...

Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

Chapter 1

Human No More

Had she stayed inside the Manor, she would have quickly burned to death. That fire was not of mortal origin. She had felt it. Hell Fire.

She'd jumped into the lake to escape death, but she'd almost drowned, if it hadn't been for Demour Courté her friend and guardian. Just when she'd seen black, he'd grabbed her, pulling her from the water.

If she thought she could handle it alone, she was wrong. She didn't know why, but Lucifer wanted her dead. What could she have possibly done to deserve the hatred of the Master of Hell? Her home destroyed. Her kingdom. Her people. Her parents. All gone...

It had been five years since her world had come crashing down; she had been sixteen, now she was twenty-one. Skilled in the arts of the sword and hand-to-hand combat, she was a very skilled rider, especially when she was riding Layla, her black Transylvanian horse, her sixteenth birthday present, her constant reminder.

She dug in her heels, causing her mare to spur on. Demour Courté was leading the way through town. They had entered Budapest, not so long ago. Had she come alone, she'd have been dead by now, for Budapest was the only, solely vampire populated city, in the world.

'Demour, why do you protect me?' She had asked this question since she was a child, old enough to speak.

'I told you it's between your forefather, Liance and me.' That was what he always said. He was about one hundred years younger then Dracula, and he'd been a fledgling in Liance's time. Demour never told her what had happened back then. He never spoke of it.

She didn't know much about her friend's past. Only that he had been the noble guard for her family for five years when he had been bitten. He was originally from France, which explained his accent, and was very loyal to Count Dracula, but he wouldn't betray her family if he could help it. Was that why she'd never passed the Transylvanian border until now?

But always she couldn't leave well enough alone...

'Come on tell me, _please._' She had no idea that this was another turning point in her life. It would never be the same again.

'No.'

'_Please?'_

'_No!'_

'Can you _please?_'

'_I said,_ NO!' It only got worse. The shouting got louder, and finally, she got so angry that she spurred her horse far ahead, where he lost not only sight of her, but her all together.

He rode for hours trying to find her, but to no avail. Was she lying dead somewhere? Or had someone turned her? He suddenly realised something horrible...

It was summer.

--

Why couldn't he have _told_ her? What was so bad that he refused to talk about it? What could he have possible done that he would need to pay penance to her family?

She was no longer riding so hard. Why did anyone need a vampire guide? This wasn't so bad; it was great. No problem.

But that's when it all went wrong...

She turned suddenly; sure she'd heard something that was unnatural. Surely it was just her imagination... _right?_

She stared to tremble in fear, and that's when it knocked her off her horse, whatever it was. Layla, scared out of her wits, galloped off back the way she had come, leaving her in the dark.

'Thanks Layla.' She muttered. What was she going to do now? What if it was a demon? Or maybe it was an unfriendly vampire? Whatever it was, it was sneaking up on its unsuspecting prey.

Just before it reached her, however, she turned. She caught a glimpse of black and white, before it sunk its fangs in her neck. The creature, whatever it was did not drink her dry, but she had passed out just as it removed its teeth from her neck.

A/N: If you have trouble with names, I'll give you a pronunciation, so let me know. Ok?


	2. Waking Up In The Strangest Of Places

A/N: I should mention that this might have a small crossover (not 100% sure at this point) but it might not be for a while yet. What I mean by small crossover is because of one of the characters is from a different movie, yep, I'm having a character who has portrayed Lucifer to be in this fanfic, (as Lucifer) it's not that much of a crossover, more that it's just one character from a different movie. It's not like you're going to have Schwarzenegger running around with a nine millimetre Glock? So it's not going to be a full on crossover, that is if I actually decide to do it. Although I had him in mind when I put Lucifer in this story, so I think I will. There is a fan fiction or two, I'd like to do on _that_ movie, but I don't know how, because it's not listed... bugger... oh well.

Sorry for the wait, (I've been trying to put the plotline in order) hope you like it.

Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

Chapter 2

Waking Up In The Strangest Of Places

She could hear voices. It sounded like it was coming through a wall, behind her head. She slowly opened her eyes. Lying on her back, there wasn't much space to move. It was like she was in a large rectangular steel box, and there appeared to be no exit.

Suddenly, she heard beeping noises, like a quiet, but not silent, alarm. A small click came from behind her head, as she quickly closed her eyes and played dead.

It felt as if she was inside a draw that was being pulled out to its limit. When she felt a slight jerk, she knew that the draw couldn't be pulled out any further. She knew she was being watched. She could feel at least one pair of eyes on her.

She didn't dare move.

'Are you sure that the system is working properly?' came a cool, calm voice of a female.

'Well of course it is, I invented it!' His voice was nervous, and he didn't sound as sure as he was trying to make out.

'Come now, Victor,' came a male voice, with a thick Transylvanian accent, 'your alarm system works perfectly, for she is awake, no matter how much she tries to pretend that she isn't.'

'Master, maybe you should...' but she never heard the rest, because something wet touched her left cheek, causing her to shriek in shock and roll to her right, only to fall off and hit the hard floor.

She could hear loud evil laughter.

Lifting her head, she turned herself so that she wasn't facing the floor. In the room was the four people she'd heard, but there was another woman in the room as well, who had remained silent.

'What'd you do that for?' she said, now hearing the woman's voice for the first time.

'Come now, Marishka, let me have my fun!' he turned and smiled evilly at her as she remained sitting on the floor.

'Who are you people?' she asked without getting up from the floor. Although she tried to hide her fear, they could all smell it, though she wasn't the type of person to admit, or show, that she was afraid. The woman, who had been about to suggest something, come down to her level.

'Why don't you guess?' she grinned. She couldn't help but dislike her in some way. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks. She thought back to the last thing she remembered, and realised that she was in a bigger danger then she'd initially thought.

She had felt Layla's nervousness, and her companion had bolted as soon as she'd fallen off. What was it Demour had told her about Layla?

That she only feared one thing.

Could this creature that had attacked her be that one thing? Was it any of the people before her? She had only seen black and white, though something about it seemed, in appearance, human.

'You can not trick me, my dear, for I will always know.' She stared at him, and couldn't help but admit to herself that she found him extremely attractive. He was around her height, maybe a little taller. Like her, he wore only black, which suited him perfectly. His eyes were blue, though a few lighter shades then hers, while his skin was as pale as the moon.

'You're a vampire?' she blurted out before she could stop herself.

'Well spotted!' he managed to say before he laughed out right; when he finally stopped, he looked straight at her, but she wasn't looking into his eyes, not directly at least.

'My darlings,' he said sweetly to all the women in the room, 'introduce yourselves while I go and have a little chat with the good doctor,' he left the room with the other man that she guessed was Victor.

The woman, who was still at her level, said sweetly, 'my name's Aleera.' The other woman that hadn't liked what the man had done, smiled nicely, pointing at herself, and said, 'Marishka.' Then she heard that cool, calm voice from before, 'and I'm Verona.' She turned to see all of them in her vision at once; unsure whether she should tell them her name.

She swallowed all of her emotion, and said, 'Vanessa.'

'That's a pretty name, but it's a bit common isn't it?' Vanessa didn't know what to tell her, and she wondered if Aleera always acted this way.

'I guess, but it's what my mother called me,' she breathed, though their hearing was heightened because they were vampires, and they were all close enough to hear her.

'Well that's a lovely name,' said Marishka sweetly. She sounded angry, but Vanessa had the feeling it wasn't directed towards her. The three women headed for the door, which was the only one in the room. As Vanessa rose from the floor, she suddenly realised where she was. Looking around the room, she couldn't believe her eyes.

She was in the morgue.

A/N: I know I've fallen behind on all my stories, but I'm trying to catch up, and will try to post more often. It's so good to be out of writer's block, and my mind has calmed down a little now (over David Tennant) so that I can at least think straight. Until next time, hopefully sooner than last time.


	3. And Your Name Is

A/N: Sorry if my chapters take a long time, but you just can't rush genius, humour, or that other thing you can't rush...

**Warning:** A slight sexual reference, but then again, this wouldn't be rated M for no reason...

Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

Chapter 3

And Your Name Is

Vanessa hurried to follow them out, before she got left behind, just in case that unnamed man came back. There was something about him that she didn't like.

After wondering along many corridors, they reached a set of double doors. Verona opened it, and they entered, Vanessa was the last, which meant she had to close the door. When she turned to survey the room, she found that it was a place made just for relaxing.

There was a very large couch at the back of the room, parallel with the door. To the right of the room, was another door. There was a large window, the black velvety curtains were wide open to the night sky, and moonlight filtering through, though the moon was not visible.

Verona, Marishka and Aleera were sitting on the couch, they gestured for her to join them. They seemed nice enough, and she thought that there was no intended threat, so she went and sat between Verona and Marishka, Aleera on Verona's right. Thinking they were going to get to know each other, she was surprised by what happened next.

Aleera took her black brimmed hat, gently throwing it out of her reach, as she exclaimed, 'no need for that!' Then begun a conversation with Verona (who wasn't really paying Aleera any attention) about what Vanessa was wearing - but Marishka didn't join in - Aleera scrutinised everything about her, from her clothes, to her slim figure. She didn't approve of her outfit, which was all black, and didn't reveal anywhere as near as much as their clothes, (if you could call them that).

Just when she thought she couldn't handle anymore, the door, they had entered through, opened to admit, to her partial disappointment, the unnamed man.

'You're getting along fine then?' Vanessa got the feeling he wasn't really asking a question, it sounded more like he was telling them, or commanding them.

'Master,' whined Aleera, (which Vanessa found to be such an annoying sound), 'why did you let her keep her clothes, it's not like you.'

'What are you talking about?' asked Vanessa curiously. Aleera turned to her, and explained how it usually worked in a morgue, especially _that_ morgue. Their clothes were taken from them to be replaced with new ones, to suit their new life. Vanessa asked what she meant by "new life".

'As a vampire of course,' then she looked at her, she _really_ looked at her, '_what?_ You think you're still human?'

'That's enough, Aleera!' He commanded, before she could answer, 'and just for that, you can leave.' It wasn't a request. Aleera looked like she might protest, but decided against it. With a sour look on her face, she walked out of the room. Dracula's eyes never left Vanessa, even though she wasn't looking at him directly. After Aleera had closed the door behind her, a silence followed.

'Now then,' he said, after several minutes had passed, 'Vanessa wasn't it? If memory serves me well.' Hearing him say her name caused her to jump, and look directly into his eyes. _How did he know her name? _

He continued to smile as he spoke, not taking his eyes off her, while she found it impossible to look away. After several minutes, of him talking – the words barely sinking in – he dismissed Verona and Marishka.

'Now then, my dear,' he said calmly, almost sweetly, after the two women had left.

'I'm not your _dear_.' Vanessa was determined not to fall prey to this man, this being, this vampire, or _whatever_ he was.

'On the contrary, you _are _mine,' he slowly approached, as he spoke, 'you've _been _mine for five years,' pause, he was almost upon her now, standing right in front of her, there was no escape, 'or don't you _remember?_' He reached forward with his right hand, and pulled gently on a chain around her neck - one she had long forgotten – pulling it up from out of her clothes, where it lay hidden from view. She looked down, at the chain, but ultimately the pendant upon it. It was small and round, a silver circle with a silver beast inside it, on a black background. The creature looked somewhat like a snake with wings, but Demour had once explained that it was in fact a dragon.

'What about it?' she said defiantly, looking back at him, but it only caused him to smile.

'Do you know what this is? What it means?' She thought about it for a moment, then realised that it had never really meant anything, at least not to her knowledge.

'No, it's just a silver dragon on a black field. Why?'

'This is my insignia,' her eyes widened, while he smiled wider, 'and I think it is time you know who I am, my dear, and what is expected of you.' Vanessa's eyebrows rose, especially at this last comment.

'Allow me to introduce myself,' he gently took her hand, 'I am Count Vladislaus Dracula,' then brought his lips to her hand, like a gentleman, giving it a soft kiss. Vanessa meanwhile, had frozen with terror, her blood – had it still been running in her veins – went cold. Her heart went similar, had it still beaten. The Count looked into her blue eyes, and smiled, 'and you are mine,' pause, 'forever.'

'No, I'm not, Count!' she suddenly shouted, 'I belong to me! No one else! Got that?' The Count looked furious, and with inhuman speed, pulled her down, locking her down against the couch, with him atop her.

'You're treading on thin ice, _my dear_,' he said with an inhuman angry growl, his head near her neck, 'you _are_ mine.'

'Since _when?_' she burst out, unable to control herself, 'I haven't given myself to anyone!' The Count lifted up his head, his face softened as he realised what she was referring to.

'No, that's true, and the fact that you have saved yourself, is most kind of you, and I appreciate it.' She pulled a sour expression, to which Dracula chuckled.

'That's not what I meant, but if you want to play ruff, then we'll play ruff!'

'Oh, I like the sound of that!' he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

'Get off of me!' Vanessa shouted outraged, pushing hard against Dracula's chest to try and throw him off, only to have him smile and chuckle.

'Are you enjoying yourself there, my dear?' Looking furious, she growled, and pushed harder, wanting him to get off, however it seemed that the Count had other ideas. He grabbed her hands, stopping her – as he saw it - pitiful attempt to throw him off, and pulled her close, his body resting on top of her.

'Now, that's enough, you wouldn't want me to hurt you, now would you, hmm?' It surprised her as to how calmly he spoke; he seemed unfazed by his own words. 'Besides, I'd prefer not to hurt you.'

'Now, I think that it is time that I refreshed your memory a little.' For the next hour or so, without moving off of her, or letting go of her arms, Dracula recounted a little tale that she had all but put behind her. It was true that Vanessa hadn't actually seen Dracula that time he had saved her life, she had been unconscious, but that hadn't stopped Demour, from getting his help.

It had been only a little more than a week after her village had been set aflame with the fires of Hell itself, she had been ripped deeply in her side by a werewolf. Demour had managed to save her, taking her to a secluded spot where she was safe. There he bandaged her, however it wasn't enough, and she had lost too much blood. Out of options, and thinking of the vow he had made centuries ago, Demour had one last option, and he'd told her about the deal she would have to make.

By the time Dracula had arrived, she had been unconscious, but before she had passed out, and before Demour had left to get the Count, she had said, 'I don't care; I'm too young to die.' She had turned sixteen, the day that her world had crumbled, when everything, and everyone (save for Demour and Layla) had been burned. Layla being her sixteenth birthday present, always reminded her of her worst birthday ever.

When she had come to, her wounds were healed, and she was wearing the necklace. When she tried to remove it, it had given her a jolt, then she'd heard Demour (who was sitting on the window sill) say, 'only he can remove it.'

When the Count finished talking, Vanessa just laid there. The Count let her go, and got off of her, perhaps thinking it best to leave her be - for now.

A/N: Ok, obviously I won't be posting the next chapter tomorrow since it'll be Christmas Day, (today is X-Mas EVE!! YAY!) So I hope you enjoy the update.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!


	4. You Mean I'm A Prisoner

A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated any of my stories, but I've had such a bad last few months, :( which I will not get into, (if you feel that you _must_ know, then you can ask me yourself) and was in no mood to write anything, but since I'm in such a good mood lately (rather odd considering), I've felt like updating some chapters.

Disclaimer: My name is not Steven Sommers, which means that I don't own Van Helsing. I don't own Dracula either. :(

Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

Chapter 4

You Mean I'm A Prisoner

For how long she lay there, she did not know. She _did_ know that she was alone in that room. She thought of her past, her family, and her friends. Her eyes closed. She lay there contemplating the past. There were many unanswered questions that lay unsettled in her mind; some had been there for five years, while others were as fresh as the night air.

Why had the devil burned down her home, and killed her people? Why was Dracula so interested in her, besides her obvious beauty? Was her mother still alive, hadn't she been away when everything had been burned? Why had she not been afflicted with the werewolf curse, was she somehow immune?

She took a deep breath to clear her mind of questions, now was not the time to try and figure out what was going on; now was the time to escape before it was too late. She knew that from now on she would never be able to eat her favourite foods again, and that she would have to kill to survive. It wasn't the happiest thought in the world, but she didn't plan to live forever, just long enough to have revenge. She knew that it would be a difficult task; she would have to take care of the two on earth before she took care of the one in hell. It wasn't going to be pleasant, she knew that, but she couldn't just sit around and wait for Dracula or one of his brides to come back and try to stop her.

Getting up from the sofa, she bristly walked to the door, but as she went to open it, she felt an odd tingle run up her arm. She pulled away in shock, it hadn't hurt, but it had been such a strange feeling, it gave her goose bumps and her hair stood on end.

'Did you really think that I would just let you waltz on out of here?' She swiftly turned around and was surprised to find Dracula standing right in front of her, barely a hair's breath away. Not expecting him to be there, she jumped back, she hadn't seen him come in.

'You seem so jumpy; perhaps you shouldn't have had your eyes closed for so long. I thought perhaps you were going to go to sleep, but I see you had other ideas.' She didn't like his tone, when the King of Vampires sounded displeased it was surely not a good sign. She stiffened as he took a step closer to her, once again standing very close. He tried to see her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him. Gently he lifted her chin, but she still didn't look at him.

'Why are you afraid of me?' he asked gently, careful not to scare her anymore then she already was, 'as long as you behave you have nothing to fear, especially not from me.' As the last syllable left his lips, she reefed her head away, out of his hand. She could tell by the low sound he made, that he was trying to keep his anger under control. She had heard much about the Count, he was so used to having his way, but Vanessa was determined that no matter what, he wasn't going to get it this time.

'I guess this is not the time for a conversation, I will return later when you have settled down, and made yourself more at home.' He walked around behind her, and headed for the door, but he stopped before he opened it, and without turning around, he said, 'you cannot leave this room.'

Angry, Vanessa turned to face him, ' you mean I'm a prisoner!' Dracula was still and silent for a few moments. When he did speak, he turned his head and looked straight into her eyes. Vanessa found it impossible to look away, his eyes were like magnets; the pull was too strong.

'No you're not a prisoner; you're just confined to this room. At least until you learn how to behave and act like the Noble-born that you are.' Without another word he left the room, and as he shut the door behind him, Vanessa rushed to the door, to try and stop it from closing, so that she could escape. It was of no use however, she wasn't fast enough; instead she bashes her fists against the door in anger, which were soon followed by tears. Moving away from the door, she sat herself straight down onto the floor, her arms folded over her bent up knees. As soon as her face was hidden, she broke down like she hadn't done in years, not since she had practically lost everything in a blaze of fire.

She was so distraught that it took her a while to realise that someone was standing next to her. Her mind raced with ideas, perhaps if she could somehow trick the Count, then when he least expected it, she'd make her escape. Unfortunately, she had heard that he was practically impossible to trick or deceive, and that he did not tolerate betrayal. If she failed, she knew that regardless of her being a bride, he would punish her severely. He would not expect a well behaved bride to betray him however; she knew that this would take much time, and effort. After the way she had behaved, he might even be dubious of her behaviour, and might believe her act as false.

She felt strong firm arms wrap around her in a gentle way as if to comfort her. At that moment she was completely certain that it was Dracula. It wasn't a bride because they didn't have fabric on their arms, and no male vampire would dare do such a thing with one of Dracula's brides, knowing exactly what he would do to them if they did. Strangely, he didn't feel dangerous at all at that moment, he felt rather comfortable, even caring in the way he held her. Still, she was glad that Dracula had made the move for her, but that would not make it any easier for her to trick him, or give her the strength to do so.

She leaned into him, trying to forget why she was crying, which wasn't hard because she had forgotten the moment Dracula began holding her. She didn't really know Dracula, perhaps he was just misunderstood, or maybe the rumours weren't all true, after all, not everything you hear is the truth. She shook her head to try and clear it, she moved rather warily as if she had no energy, where had such thoughts come from? That was not what she thought of him, she hated him, and she would continuously tell herself that, if it was necessary.

'What are you playing at, my dear?' came the thick Romanian accent of Count Dracula, his voice was soft, and near her ear. She could sense something that made no sense to her, was that Dracula's feelings? No, surely not, he had no feelings. Whatever it was, she was certain that it meant confusion. Of course he would be confused, one moment she was behaving badly, and the next she was allowing him to hold her without any arguments, or protests.

She felt something cool touch her skin, she guessed that it was his hand. He turned her head gently so that he could see her eyes; perhaps he could only see the truth through someone's eyes. Without knowing if that was true, she did nothing to stop him, if he found out her plan, then he found out her plan. It only meant that she had to kill him to escape, and she knew that was dam near impossible.

Since she felt so far away, it took her a few moments to realise that she was starring into Dracula's eyes, not that she was paying any attention to them, but now she couldn't ignore those blue eyes. She didn't know how it was possible, but she could see a softer, kinder, side of him in those blue eyes. A side of him that others didn't see, perhaps he wasn't all bad, but still she wasn't going to give him anything that he wanted. Without looking away from her eyes, Dracula spoke softly to her.

'I know what's going through your head right now, but you don't have to hate me, I'm not all bad. It's true, I have a temper, but I always try to keep my brides happy, and under their own omission they do the same in return. I'm not asking you for much, you don't have to love me, you don't even have to _like_ me, just for you to behave is enough for me to keep you safe and out of harm's way.' Vanessa thought about what he'd just said, it was rather kind of him to do that, but what was the catch? She knew that eventually she would have to do more than just behave, she knew it in her veins, and by that time, she might actually want to. That had to be his game; there was no way that he would ever let a bride go, freely or unwillingly. She knew that there was no escape, she had no choice; she was stuck. She just had to find some way to cope, at least until she found a way out...

'Alright Count, I'll behave, but don't expect anything else from me, because I won't ever give it.'

A/N: I know I take a long time to update, but I'm doing my best, I've got a lot on my mind and it looks like I might be doing a course next year. I will still be writing, and since my depression has improved, actually I'm feeling the best I've ever felt in my life; I will be able to update perhaps just a little sooner. Hope you enjoyed the chapter; oddly this one didn't take me very long. I seem to be rather inspired at the moment, and I hope that it stays around.


End file.
